Daily Yellowstone journal., 1887-05-03

peace In the Grow tepse1 IL you have, IL
was more than Robert did. His vision
had been crossed by a woolly head, a
swarthy neck, a form huddlei IN a
blanket. But Brissaye il was. lie had
eluded his pursuers by hook or by crook
M the first day of their ride. Then
while they slept at the stage ranch lie
had made friends first with a squaw man
(whitel, then with a squaw, next with a
hospitable buck. These had fed and
lodged him, and in the end received him
into their family. The terms of this
treaty were being ratified when Derby
rode along the second time. If Brissaye's
hosts suspected that he was the deserter
the soldiers We're after they showed no
signs of it.
That was in the early autumn. The
winter went by mo%notonouslv under its
heavy fall of snow. The hunting season
opened as soon as the snow began 10
melt. and Derby went on a three days
hunt from the fort with the first party
that was made up. They went into
camp in as marked a position rs they
could find in that monotonous if fascinat-
ing country. For fascination there is
undoubtedly in the vast grand sweep Of
sky and land Of the same kind that holds
one by the boundless sea. Derby strolled
off by himself presently with his gun.
Don't lose yourself, some one called
out to him.
''No danger" he called back: and. in
truth, il struck him as the simplest thing
in the world to return to the camp by the
way he had come. He wandered on and
on. the serene uniformity of billowy plain
confirming this impression by deceiving
him as to the distance he had traversel.
Ii was only when he began to feel hungry
| that he leaked at his watch and saw that
he had been gone three hours, resting and
walking. Then he began TO retrace his
steps. and then he found that he had alb
%solutely lost his bearings. After two
more hours Of wandering he dropped
down exhausted. He had made no pro-
gress. He hal been wandering round and
round in a circle.
II began to be late in the afternoon, and
il began TO lie bitterly cold. Derby rea-
lied his situation intensely. He. for whom
life was So fair, 20 sweet, S lOvcly-he.
young. strong. blessed, before the light Of
another day might be lying frozen still
on these peaceful, treachcrous solitudcs.
or else torn limb from limb 10y wild beasts.
His friends. his sister. his mother, his
love-waS all this over for him; do
YOU See this:-oh God" he cried, with
Laertes.
But in spite Of growing exhaustion he
kept moving. and thus he am all ut
once upon a tragedy that had been there
before him. In a little hillock from
which the snow had melted during the
warm sun Of the preceding day. all hut a
feathery white outline about the prone
figure. lay a man wrapped in an Indians
blanket. His composed, regularly beau
tiful features, his dark %Iallor, might have
belonged TO an antique statue. The blan-
ket was huddled about his head; it was
only when Derby pushed il aside that he
became aware that the hair of the
man before him was % that Of one Of
his own race. And then he recognized
him: then he saw that he had found,
thus strangely, the secretary Of the
English bishop at Old Point Comfort.
AT first he thought he was dead. but
the eyelids quivcrcd ever 50 slightly pres
emily, as Robert knelt hcside the poor fell
low and chafcd the stony hands in his
impulsive. warmhrarted way. Yes. he
had seen the chap before, of course, ut
the Hygeia that time: but what was he
dong in this Indian toggery. BrisSaye
moved feebly, and turned his head away
from Derby, who was forthwith. impressed
10y another association. Where. besides.
had he seen the curly wool. the lack of
that shapely head and neck; Still chatting
Brissaye's hand. and presently pouring
down his throat the last few drops of
whisky that remained in his flask. the AS
ISOLATION of ideas strengthened and per
vadei him. This WIS the black white
man he had noticed in the tepee when he
had searched 1t for the dcsrrtcr from the
fort on his return route. There wa some
thing in the desperate patienCeo of the face
before him which stirred the very depths
of Roberts nature. Through what great
straits had this poor soul come to this last
strait of all; Slowly BriSsaye's mulrnful
ewes unclosed, looked at Robert. and knew
him. 1t was the final blow: he gazed
from right to left, wildly, weakly. like a
hunted creature at hay. YOU'RE all
right" said Robert. encouragingly. be-
ginning TO pull of his overcuat To give u
the other. Keep up your pluck I've
straye1 off from my PARTY, but they'll
come up with Us presently, and look out
for us BOTH
But, al. he spoke, the deadly, lonely
stiffness was broken by an ominous sound
the bowling Of a wolf. He listened
keenly, realized the voice Of the foe, and
met the emergency, II We come TO the
end Of my rope" he said to himself
TRANQUILITY, as he shoulderel his rifle. He
had but three cartridges left, hut he fired
one. joy! his shot was answered. He
fired again unlIesitatingly, and his friends
were close at hand. His last discharge
brought them to him before nights
solemn shadows had closed in on linn and
his companion. Robert Derby was not
one Of those ON whom falls the shadow of
an early doom.
He had dropped on his knees again be-
side Brissaye as soon as he was assured
that he was rescued. But Leonce was
far away. Death the comforter, Death
the savior, had come to him, and led him
into the safe and blessed haven that
awaits at last inevitably all weary hearts.
lie lay crowned and mantlcd in the great
final dignity when the party Of soldiers
stool about him with exclnmations Of
pity and surprise. But no n recognized
him then or aftrrward as the drscrter Of
last year from Fort Cameron. That was